Backstabbing
by SillastraDragontongue
Summary: Shi is a mercenary working for a new badguy in town. His mission: trick Kim Possible, Shego and Dr. Drakken. But what does he do when Drakken and Shego doublecross him? Please R&R—I want to know if I should add more
1. Breaking and Entering

Spring was just setting into the winter sky, spreading its pale blue around them as the birds began to chitter and whistle on their branches, already sprouting tiny white buds, or green buds, in some cases. Several trees already had leaves, and others were just gaining them, clothing themselves in summer's garb.

Shi wasn't noticing the fresh spring morning, however, he was busy staring up at the announcement sign in front of the school. "Welcome Mr. Carter!" it proclaimed, and he fought not to wince and puke. He hated unnecessary exclamation points. Too fucking perky.

Quietly he entered the eerily quiet building, nearly empty of all students and teachers save for those who came in the early, early morning. They didn't even lock the doors here, two hours before school started. He wanted to laugh. Calmly sauntering down the halls, he paused for a moment, hearing noises, and slunk into the hollow near one of the classroom doors as two students drifted past, talking animatedly about the new line of Prada shoes just out.

They didn't even notice him, but he waited until they were around the corner before slinking off. He hadn't expected anyone to see him; after all, his full-fade black catsuit and mask shifted the gaze away from anyone who cared to look directly at him. Not the best in the way of camouflage, but an easy way to be unnoticed. If one couldn't be seen, then one probably couldn't be caught. It made fighting an opponent easier, anyways. He wasn't too worried about the security cameras on the walls, either—they weren't working too well, as he had tampered with them the day before, and that model always was shifty. Right now they were staticky and no one would notice a man in black walking down the halls through all that snow.

Reaching the main office, he sank down before entering, too low for anyone to see. He was more worried about people catching movement out of the corner of their eye than being seen full on. No one was in the office, and he smirked slightly. Rubes. These people were complete rubes. All the better in getting what he wanted. Or rather, what his boss wanted.

Slipping inside—again, the door wasn't even locked—he walked silently to the principal's office and tried the door. The lock was easily picked without a single scuffle to indicate forced entry, and he was inside.

Awards and framed pictures of a short man in grey suit lined the walls and a bronzed apple paperweight sat on the desk amid the piles of paper and computer, but he first went to the metal file cabinet, scanning down the rows until he got to the P's. Opening it, he pursed his lips, slightly disappointed to find that the girl he was looking for was not listed in the "troublemaker section." Then again, since she was a 4.0 student and the captain of the cheerleading squad it was only to be expected that she was perfect.

Sitting down in the principal's chair, it was easy matter to hack into the school computer and access the student files. He only paused once, after hearing the secretary enter the main office and start up her computer. He ducked behind the desk as she walked passed the principal's office to get a file or something from the back room, not even bothering the check her boss's office door. It wouldn't have mattered: it was locked. Once she was back at her desk, Shi went back to his typing, and found the files he wanted. Indeed, the girl was a fucking goody-goody two shoe, and he was more than slightly disappointed as he downloaded her file onto a blank disk and slipped it into his pocket. He had hoped for someone more interesting and challenging to be the arch-nemesis of his current boss, but then, the man was a weenie. He didn't even rank the higher insults Shi tended to give people he didn't much care for.

Turning off the computer and slipping out the door like a black ghost, he went out the back door of the office, slinking past the secretary without her even noticing. The principal entered the office just as he walked out the back door, and kids were arriving for school. Reaching the cool outside, he saw a group of kids walking towards him; his boss's target one of them. Startled, he moved quickly to one of the bushes in front of the school, crouching low near the roots and freezing, his breath coming slowly.

"Did you see that?" she asked, staring at the place he had just been.

"See what?" the boy asked, tripping over his own two feet. "Aw, man! Always when I'm walking. What were you saying, K.P.?" he asked as he pulled himself up.

"Uh, nothing. I must have been seeing things," she replied, and walked inside the building, Shi staring after her. She had a slight resemblance to his old partner, with her red hair that was darker than normal red hair. She also had green eyes, bright green eyes, not the pale jade of Chandre's. She was shorter and tanner than Chandre, and younger by several years, but he was still unnerved. She _moved_ like his old partner. Not as flowing or graceful, but the way she had caught his quick movement was uncanny. No one should even have seen a glimpse of him.

Once she was gone and the bell had rung, the late students scurrying inside, he stood up and walked away, staying to the shadows of the trees. Middleton High School was just too boring for him to even contemplate anymore.


	2. Dodgeball

His boss was sitting at his desk writing something on a near blank piece of paper when Shi arrived, stepping silently through the door and roughly pulling off his mask. The man who called himself Finch Gray looked up, eyes sliding up to Shi's face.

"You're late," he said flatly.

Shi shrugged and tossed the disk case onto the desk. It made a loud clatter on the wooden surface, and he stepped back, maintaining a blank face to hide his contempt for this stupid, stupid man.

"You're late," Finch repeated. "Why?"

"Only by thirty seconds," Shi replied steadily.

"I pay you too much for you to be late."

Shi snorted, and walked out the door, ignoring the man's calls. He didn't give a damn about the money; this job was only a filler for his time. As the door swung closed he called, "When you're in a reasonable mood, you can reach me in the cell that's called a bedroom."

Whistling a ballad from the high plains of Saturn, Chandre's homeworld, he opened the door to his room and locked the door, going through a cursory examination of the little closet. Once again, Finch had had his goons place both listening and optical bugs in his room, this time in the tiny air vent on the ceiling. Yesterday it had been the door. Casually he removed them, still whistling, and crushed them underneath his heel, sliding the remains into a corner with the debris of their little cousins. In the unlikely event that he missed something, he placed his jammer on the nightstand and undressed quickly, sliding out of the full-fades and into a comfortable pair of pants and shirt, standard wear on this planet.

As expected, Finch called in five minutes after he had finished putting his combat boots back on. "Jaime Cass, report to my office."

Shi shrugged and muttered, "What the fuck," scooped his jammer from the table and tucked it into the vest pocket of his full-fades, then wandered back over the office.

Finch was looking slightly annoyed, yet uncomfortably pleased with himself. "I have an idea to get rid of Kim Possible," he said.

Shi raised an eyebrow and fell gracefully into one of the chairs before Finch's desk. "Oh?" he asked politely. "I thought your bid was taking over the world."

"Something not possible with her in the way," Finch said. "Anyhow, my plan is to lure her into a trap."

"And you want me to do it?" Shi asked. "Fine. How do you want her dead? Any preferences? Snipe shot, execution style? Poison? Personally, I don't like torture, but I'll do it for a much higher price."

Finch actually flinched. "That would be murder," he said, his voice actually raising an octave.

Shi smiled, or rather, bared his teeth in something like a snarl. "Yes, well, that's kind-of what I do," he said, growing quickly irritated. "So you don't want her dead. What sort of trap, then? I'm assuming something to delay her from saving the day or whatever sort of crap it is she does. All right. When? And around what time? How long would you prefer that I held her for?"

"Actually, you wouldn't be doing the trapping," Finch said. "One of her other arch-nemeses, Doctor Drakken, will be doing that."

"How many foes does this kid have?" Shi asked, slightly startled. The files had said nothing about this; they had been related entirely school-related.

"Quite a few. She had thwarted many plans to take over the world," Finch said. "I, however, am going to succeed."

_Riiight_, Shi thought. "Then what do I do?"

"You'll be luring her into a trap. Something about the captured substitute teacher. Drakken's henchwoman, Shego, will be doing the capturing. You don't mind being kidnapped by a woman, do you?"

"I prefer not to be 'kidnapped' at all, but if I must be, then the sex of my captor doesn't bother me in the least," Shi answered.

"Perfect. Mr. Bartlet, Middleton High's P.E. teacher, was injured this morning due to a car accident. They need a substitute, and you are it. Get to know Kim Possible, play the mysterious card, and in three days' time, you will be having a nice little meeting with Shego," Finch said.

"I hope I can meet this woman before she kidnaps me," Shi said dryly. "Just in case someone else tries to. You know, I don't want to get confused if it isn't her."

"She wears green and black. About five six, black hair, you can't miss her."

"And when do they need the sub?"

Finch glanced at his watch. "In twenty minutes, so I suggest you get going. You're already scheduled."

Shi rose from his seat. "I hope I get transportation and free gas. The Ninja?" Finch sighed and nodded, and Shi gave him a two-fingered salute, then walked out the door to Finch's private automobile stash.

The 'evil' villain was about as evil as dirt, and richer than most men in the world. Shi didn't know what it was about rich men, but they liked their cars. Personally he didn't care so long as he got to drive one, or at least one of their bikes. The Ninja wasn't a Harley, or even a BMW cycle, but it was good enough, and added to the mystique.

Before going to the garage he grabbed his well-worn black leather jacket. It wasn't really leather, more synthetic, but it looked real. It was hard to buy leather jackets in space, and so he had had to make do. Zipping it up and tucking his ID (false, of course), into his back pocket along with some cash, he ran to the garage and hopped onto the bike after grabbing the key and a black helmet.

Within moments, speeding along the highways at ninety-four miles an hour, he pulled into the front drive of the school and parked the bike, hopping off it easily and setting his helmet neatly on the seat. Before going into the school he cut the feed to the gas, so that the bike wouldn't start, pocketed the keys, and went inside.

At the office, he greeted the secretary and leaned over onto her counter, smiling charmingly. She smiled back. "Hello. How may I help you?" she asked, looking slightly nervous.

"I was told they needed a sub for P.E.," Shi said, running his hand through his military short blond hair. "Jaime Cass. I'm probably on the list or whatever it is you've got for these things."

"Oh, you're the sub for Mr. Bartlet," the secretary said brightly. She typed some things into the computer and printed out a slip of paper. "Here you are, Mr. Cass. Just some things you might want before class starts. You know, a roll sheet and little stuff like that. I believe Mr. Bartlet already has a lesson plan made out for you for these three days, so you won't have to worry about coming up with things like that." She was twirling her hair in her fingers and fluttering her eyes ever so slightly. "Aren't you a bit young for a teacher?"

He flashed another grin. She was old enough to be his mother. Too bad he hadn't known his mother. "Twenty-eight, ma'am." He glanced down at the paper. "Looks like I've got class in five minutes. 'Bye."

The bell was ringing as he made his way from Mr. Bartlet's office to the gym. It seemed that the man was a complete control freak. He documented everything, made notes of everything, and clearly didn't trust Shi to handle any part of his job so he had made him a list of things to do down to the minute.

The class was already assembled by the time the second bell rang, causing him to wince at its noise. It was better than jumping and yelping, which was what he had done at the first bell. He stared at the twenty-eight sullen, bored students for a moment, glancing over each of them, his gaze brushing over Possible's without a second glance, before looking down at his roll sheet, then back up.

"In case you hadn't heard, Mr. Bartlet was injured in a car accident this morning," he said, mildly. "I don't know the exact damage, but he'll be back by Monday. Judging from the tone in his letter, it will be whether or not he's completely healed." Several giggles there, mostly from the girls, who were looking at him with big eyes and cow-like faces. "Anyhow, I'm Mr. Cass, and obviously I'm your sub. So we'll go through roll call and then take a little look-see at this incredibly detailed lesson plan Bartlet gave me." He quickly rattled off names, memorizing their faces as they said 'yes' or 'here,' and made a mental list.

Finishing, he pulled out the lesson plan from his pants pocket and unfolded it. "All right. Says here that you normally go on a little jog before starting class. And then do push-ups, sit-ups—rope climbing? —and some more calisthenics, followed by dodgeball." He raised an eyebrow and looked at the students. "This seems a lot like the military. Does he really make you do all this?"

"Puh. Yes," answered a pretty brown-haired girl. She had overly tanned skin, and he quickly identified her as Bonnie Hunter.

"And you really do have timed mile runs every Friday?" Shi was amused.

"Yes," everyone chorused wearily.

The door slammed and his muscles tensed automatically, but only his head turned to face the incoming student, a disheveled blond boy who wasn't dressed down. He was the same kid who was walking beside Possible that morning.

"Sorry I'm late Mr. Bar—you're not him," the kid said.

"I've realized. I would assume that you are Ron Stoppable?"

"How did you know?" the kid asked, flabbergasted. "Do I know you?"

"No. You were the only one not present," Shi replied. "Get in line, Stoppable." Looking at the students and their sullen expressions, he said, "Well, we'd best get started." Everyone groaned, and he thought he could see several glints of mischievousness in their eyes. There would definitely be trouble if he went along with Bartlet's hellish lesson plan, and he really didn't feel like watching twenty-nine out of shape kids struggle through easy drills. "I don't like this lesson plan, so we're going to play dodgeball. Get the balls out and I'll divide you into teams."

They did, and he quickly separated them. There was an odd number, but they seemed pretty capable. They formed up and began to play, moving somewhat sluggishly, and several people were out pretty quickly. While they played, he watched, and was incredibly bored. There was nothing like watching high school students play dodgeball to really suck the fun out of life.

Finally the period ended, and he resolved to have them do something different the next day. Something that didn't involve the littler kids getting the crap beaten out of them. Although he had to admit, Possible was pretty damn good. She had the moves, there was no question to that, even if she didn't have the discipline. With the proper training she could make an amazing assassin.

"Uh, Mr. Cass?" one of the smaller students asked as they walked out the door. He had almost had his half-inch thick glasses broken.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Could we play something other than dodgeball tomorrow? I really hate that game."

"Don't worry, you're going to be playing something else," Shi said with a reassuring smile.


	3. Simple Seductions

He had one other class to "teach" that day, and then he straddled the Ninja and flew back to Finch's lair, hugging the curves and passing Possible on her way home. She didn't recognize him with his helmet on, and stared, jaw agape. Probably not at the serious speed he was putting on, but the average cool motorcyclist. He took no notice and sped on back to the lair, where he reported to Finch and then went down to Finch's private gym, where his goons trained.

Several of them were lifting weights and practicing; all were wearing Finch's little uniform of red and purple. Awful colors combined, and even worse in a uniform, especially one that was moving pretty damn close to spandex. Shi turned his head away in disgust at one pair of goons who were fighting on one of the mats. He wasn't incredibly impressed by fat men, and fat men in spandex bothered him. To top it off, the two men were pathetic fighters. If all villains had goons who fought so badly, no wonder they all sucked.

Hefting a forty-pound dumbbell, he began to curl it, fairly bored. It was an easy weight to lift, so he did three reps of thirty on each arm, then went to something else. His goal wasn't to bulk up on muscles but to maintain his lean physique. Bulky did not fit through ventilation shafts very well. Most of his strength came from the fact that he was born on a planet with grav heavier than this one, and so his muscle density was higher than a normal person on this planet.

Doing several more weights and abs, he glanced up, saw that one of the mats was vacant, and bounded over to it. After doing some simple unarmed exercises, he went on to more complicated ones, moving faster and faster until he was working to his full speed, which was blinding fast. When his muscles were achy and screaming for rest he stopped, breathing heavily and finishing the pattern dance in the same position he started it, the only change being the sweat dripping from his face and the heavy panting of his chest.

Slow clapping caused him to jerk his head up and settle into a defensive stance, but he relaxed, slightly, as he caught sight of the woman standing on the edge of the mat. She was wearing a green and black spandex suit and had long black hair and green eyes. Her skin was a tad pale for her hair, but she was really quite pretty. Too bad he was already taken. Even if Chandre was _technically_ married to someone else.

"Bravo," she said, without a trace of sarcasm in her voice. "You must be Jaime."

"And you must be Shego," Shi said, straightening fully, although his muscles were still tensed to attack. "I thought I wouldn't be meeting you until you ah, kidnapped me."

"I wanted to make sure I didn't run off with someone else," Shego replied with a smile. "Although I must say, I'm glad that Finch finally got a good looking goon."

Shi bristled. "I am not a goon," he said.

She smiled coyly. "Then what are you?"

"You know, for an evil henchwoman, you are sure talkative," Shi said, trying to redirect the conversation. "I thought all they did was smile and nod and seduce the bad—good, excuse me—guys."

It was Shego's turn to bristle. "I'm a different kind of henchwoman," she said. "And seducing the bad guy is soo last century."

"Good." Shi stepped off the mat and walked past her, chucking her under the chin. She growled and attempted to flip him, but he dodged easily, more interested in the flickering green sparks coming out of her hands. She moved towards him, but he turned his back to her and walked out, giving her a little flip of a wave. "See you in three days."

He could almost hear her growls as he exited the gym, and was a little disappointed when she didn't attack him from the back. She must have learned something when she saw him practicing, and he really felt like pounding on something of flesh, not air. Attacking him would have been a good lesson for her, at least. Some people were just too damn cocky for their own good. Not that he was, when he knew full well that he had the muscle to prove that he knew how to handle himself in a fight, and come out on top. There were few people that could beat him with hand-to-hand, and several more with weapons, although that list was growing shorter with each passing day.


	4. A New Game

The next day, at school, he decided to root through the storage room in the gym. Dodgeball was definitely not a game he liked to see played. Mostly because it was pathetic watching the bigger, faster kids nail down the smaller, dweebier kids, but also because it reminded him too much of his life.

He hit paydirt when, near the very back and covered in at least three layers of dust, he found an old volleyball net and supports. It had been a popular recreational sport on his homeplanet, but he hadn't been able to find another planet that had it, or knew it very well. Seeing the net he was slightly intrigued, and pulled it out, setting it up carefully on the gym, stretching the net taut.

There were five flattened balls underneath an equally dusty old-fashioned soccer goal, so he filled them up with air using the pump that worked the footballs. Luckily, although the balls were very old, probably older than he was, they were still good and had no obvious leaks, and he practiced a couple of serves before the bell rang and students began filing in.

Several of their eyes widened in mysticism, while several other students nodded, grinning with eagerness. So the sport wasn't dead here. Good.

"Afternoon, guys," he said, checking everyone's name off as they walked through the door. "Sit down the bleachers and we'll just wait for the bell."

The bell rang again, and once more the kid rushed in late. "Stoppable, you're late," Shi said, not glancing up from his clipboard as he marked the kid tardy. "Again."

"Uh—did Mr. Bartlet tell you my name?" the kid asked, freezing in his tracks when his name was called.

"No, I just don't forget names or faces. Sit down, Stoppable, so we can get started." He set the clipboard down neatly on the first bleacher and stepped back, eyeing them. "I don't like dodgeball. Too violent," he started, ignoring several snickers from the jocks in the class. "So, how many of you already know how to play volleyball?"

Five raised their hands; Possible was one of them. "Great. Um, Hunter, Possible, get up here and we'll demonstrate some basic moves." The girls seemed surprised that he knew their names, but got up.

He picked up a ball and said, "For those of you who haven't played before, the object of the game is to get the ball on the ground of the other side. You can hit the ball three times when it's on your side. Likewise, there are three basic moves: the pass, set and spike, preferably in that order." He tossed the ball up into the air and passed it, then caught it. "That's a pass. You want to cup your hands and hit it with your forearms. Directing it will come with skill." He tossed the ball up in the air and set it, his fingers lightly pushing off the old, leathery surface. "And that's a set. It's mostly used to help people spike the ball on the other side of the net. Hunter, help me demonstrate a spike. I'm going to pass you the ball, and you set it to me."

She stood up by the net and he tossed her the ball, letting it go high enough for her to get her body underneath it. She set it, not very well, but he was already running towards the net and had leapt, meeting the ball at the highest point he could jump and slamming it down, his hand making a nice, meaty smack as it connected. He had made sure that he lowered his jumping height to compensate for what was normal in this gravity, but even then, when he landed the kids, even the big jocks, were silent. Maybe his idea of normal was a little off.

"I'm not expecting it to look like that, but don't be shy when coming up to the net. You can't, however, touch it, and, for you bigger guys, reach over it. Safety hazard. I don't want any broken fingers to take care of. Okay, Hunter, Possible, show them what a round of pepper looks like, and we can start with that."

The two girls squared off, although it looked more like a volleyball match for real instead of a warm-up, and he could sense some real animosity between the two. They showed what pepper looked like well enough, and after he had taught the three serves he sent the rest of the class off to practice pepper, then he formed up the class into four teams and got them playing.

He taught the next class volleyball as well, then took down the nets and set them back neatly in the storage room.

School had ended by that time, so he pulled on his battered jacket, helmet under his arm, and went out to his bike. Several boys were staring at it, and Shi wondered how they had missed it from the day before. He eyed it from a distance before going over, relieved to see that nothing had happened to it. Finch would kill him if something had.

"Dude, is this yours?" a big blond boy in varsity letter jacket asked.

"Sure." He straddled the bike and pulled on his helmet. The boys backed off, all except the kid who had questioned him. The boy, Brick Flagg, if Shi remembered correctly, was staring at the older man's brawler knuckles, which Shi had on the handlebars.

"Dude, what happened to your hands? They're all scarred," he said.

Shi grinned. "Guess I partied a little too hard when I was younger." He hoped the kid wasn't so thick to realize that several of those scars were actually scabs, and pretty recent. They were still healing from the little pick-up run he'd had to do for Finchy-boy, a pick-up run that had turned pretty nasty, although luckily none of the toughs there had guns. Shi had taken pity on them and so hadn't shot them with the weapon he always carried, but had beaten them up to teach them a lesson.

"Sweet," Brick said, but Shi ignored him and slammed his visor down, revving the bike and executing a neat reverse turn, and then he was gone, zooming down the road, Possible once more staring at him, although she had been close enough to her parent's minivan that she had to have heard the conversation, but far enough away that she hadn't see the scars on his knuckles.


	5. Kiss

Back at Finch's mansion, Shi wandered quietly down the halls, helmet tucked loosely under his arm. Neatly avoiding his boss's office as he walked back to his room, he paused at the door, seeing that the hair he had left in the doorjamb was gone. Stepping to the side and setting the helmet softly to the ground, he pulled out his gun with one hand, the other resting on the doorknob. Quickly he entered, gun going first, body halfway around the jam before he saw Shego sitting neatly on his bed, an amused expression on her face.

"My, a bit paranoid, aren't we?" she drawled. "Do you always go into your bedroom with a gun in your hands?"

He shoved his gun back into the holster in his jacket after flicking the safety back on, and retrieved the helmet. "Only when I don't know who's inside."

"You couldn't have known anyone was inside. I reset the alarm, and I wore gloves. No fingerprints." She twirled a lock of hair in her fingers. "I must say though, that lock is hard to pick."

"For good reason," he said, kicking the door shut with his boot and tossing the helmet onto the bed beside her. "What are you doing in here? If snooping around is the only answer, then I hope you liked what you saw."

She wrinkled her nose. "You don't carry much, do you?"

"I pack light." He settled into the chair in the corner of the room, crossing his legs. "What are you doing in here?"

Shego glared at him. "I wanted to discuss your kidnapping. What time is most convenient for you?"

He laughed, amused by the irony. "Anytime between two and two-forty. It would be best for Possible to actually see me getting picked up by you. Although I would recommend that you take some of Drakken's goons with you to pick me up. I intend to put up something of a fight."

"That would make capturing you somewhat difficult," she said.

"I wouldn't hurt anyone that badly," he said. "It's not like I'm trying to escape."

"We won't be gentle then," she warned, a smile playing at her lips.

"By all means, feel free to beat the crap out of me," Shi told her. "Preferably not any broken bones though, those heal slow. Or teeth. Regrowing them is a bitch. Anything else, I'm game."

"Are you one of those people who like trying to die?"

He snorted. "Are you kidding? The only reason I'm voluntarily letting anyone lay a hand on me is because it would make it more authentic looking. Besides, I heal fast."

Shego looked intrigued. "How fast?" She was getting a glint in her eye that Shi didn't exactly like to see in women he didn't want to deal with. In a movement that wiggled her hips in a provocative manner she stood up and walked towards him, standing until they almost touched.

"You know, it's about dinner time, and I need to report to Finch," Shi said, standing up and backing away from her slightly. "It was lovely seeing you again, Shego. Would you like me to escort you to the door?"

She backed away a step, looking slightly disappointed. "You're not gay, are you?" she asked, suspicious.

"No, I just don't do it with my ah, kidnapper. Or business associate, for that matter," Shi opened the door and gestured broadly. "You first."

She moved to walk out the door, but rose on her tiptoes as she brushed past him, surprising him slightly as she kissed him hotly. He realized how long it had been since he'd had someone, and it was hard to push her away, but eventually they had to come up for air.

"See?" she gasped, smiling triumphantly. "That wasn't so hard."

"That's what I'm afraid of. Let's go."


	6. Attack

"I have new plans for you, Jaime," Finch said after he had escorted Shego back to the door. "It's not very wise to let there be another person willing to take over the world. While you're at Drakken's lair, play the sidekick with Kim Possible. After I've finished my business, you may let her go—that part follows as planned. But you'll go with her and take out Drakken's lair, hopefully with him and Shego inside, as you leave."

"You want me to kill them?" Shi asked.

"That or leave them stumbling around the wreckage hopelessly," Finch told him. "Why is it always with the killing, Jaime? You don't look like a bloodthirsty monster."

Shi laughed. "I was trained as an assassin, Mr. Gray. It's what I do."

The next day he drove once more to class, knowing that someone in Finch's hire would take the bike home, and set up the volleyball nets. He was halfway through helping a kid spike it properly when the ceiling caved in on them.

"Hug the walls!" he yelled as red suited goons dropped in about them. Trust Shego to make a flashy entrance. The students scrambled to do as he said, although Possible moved to the front as he took cover for the walls as well. He growled with frustration and grabbed her arm as he ran, shoving her towards the wall and spinning.

"Jaime, Jaime, Jaime," Shego purred as she dropped to the ground, sauntering over to him. "Did you really think you could outsmart us?"

Already the goons were surrounding him, pointing spears with red glowing ends at him. He had a feeling that they would hurt when they touched him. "Actually, I kinda did," he said as the goons lunged towards him.

Waiting until they were inches away from him, the tips of the spears brushing against his skin, he moved, dodging the spear and smashing his fist into the goon's face, careful not to go full force. Before that one hit the ground, he back-roundhoused a second goon and kneed yet another in the gut.

Reminding himself that he was supposed to lose this fight, he took a smack to the gut, and another to the head, the force flinging him backwards into the wall, his head cracking against it with a sickening thud. Slightly dazed, he slid to the floor, landing on his stomach.

He was pushing himself off the ground when a pair of green boots landed in front of him. "Ah, how cute. Grovel," Shego spat, playing the villainess to the hilt, and kicked him in the face.

He was just seeing Possible lurch into the rescue when everything spun and the world went black


	7. Poorly Imprisoned

He woke to the unpleasant sensation of his arms being wrenched backwards and handcuffed. "Is that really necessary?" he asked Shego, who was standing in front of him with her hands on her hips.

"If Kim catches up with us, yes," Shego replied. "If that was you actually trying, then you're just full of hot air."

"I was supposed to be kidnapped," he reminded her. "It wasn't like I was going to kill your people. You, on the other hand, most certainly were not holding back. Is my face swelling?"

"Not really. Your nose is bleeding, though." She grinned suddenly and bent over him. "You know, carrying weapons on school grounds is a crime. Who do you think you are, Rambo?"

"It never hurts to be prepared."

"You were carrying four knives and a loaded handgun with two extra clips."

He grinned, lip hurting as he did so. "Oh, you didn't find the fifth? I hid that one especially for you," he lied. Before she could answer, he sat up, moving his body experimentally. Nothing broken, just a little sore. "When do we get to the lair?"

"Twenty minutes." Shego smiled, looking very pleased with herself. She bent down and cupped his chin in her hands, tilting his face up towards her. "I've got a cell planned just for you."

"What? I thought—"

"Until Kim gets here, you're playing the part of captive. After she's locked up we'll let you out. So sit tight and enjoy the ride."

Shi sighed and leaned back against the wall of the hovercraft thing, or whatever it was that they were riding in. A bored goon leaned next to him, gun hanging loosely from his fingers. He wondered if the goon was always like that, or just because they were only acting.

They reached Drakken's lair soon enough, as he was getting somewhat bored, and there was no sign of Possible. As the hovercraft landed with a bump he was hustled to his feet and led into the lair. It looked just like a normal warehouse, something that didn't really surprise him, although he had thought that all of the "villains" on this planet liked to advertise what they were.

Shego walked in front of him, swinging her hips provocatively, and a blue-skinned man stepped before them. He caught sight of Shi and grinned. "Ah, Jaime Cass. How nice of you to join us. We have the most perfect accommodations for you." He gave Shi a big fat wink, and Shi fought hard not to wince. Pathetic. "I'm sure that you'll tell us everything you know in due time."

"What the hell do you people want?" Shi asked, playing the angry prisoner. He struggled against his bonds weakly, and the two goons held him back.

"You'll find out soon enough. Shego, take him away. I have to prepare," Drakken said, and moved away, his bluish lab coat swirling about his calves.

The goons behind Shi shoved roughly, and they were inside the lair, walking down aisles and aisles of stacked crates until they came to a crate Shego seemed to like. "What, no underground cell?" Shi asked sarcastically.

"This is state-of-the-art technology here," Shego said. "You won't be able to get out of this until we let you out."

"Ooh, I'm shaking." While they talked he worked with the cuffs, the goons not even noticing that he was taking them off. When they shoved him into the door, he dangled the cuffs on one finger to Shego. "Next time use something more challenging."

She looked irritated, but he walked inside and the door slammed behind him, leaving him in near darkness, the only light seeping through the coin-sized air holes on the walls. It looked like an animal transportation crate, and probably was. State-of-the-art technology indeed. He could break out of this in a flash.

There were no mattress or blankets in the cell, so he lay down on the metal floor, fingers laced behind his head, and slept.


	8. Betrayed

He jolted awake when the door crashed open, and was on his feet and ready to leave when a red-haired body flew into him, bringing him down to the floor with a grunt.

"Have fun, Princess," Shego said. "He's pretty good looking."

She began to close the door, but Shi shoved Possible off of him and said, "All right, let me out. It smells like piss in here." The acting would end after Possible was captured, as the deceit would be revealed then.

Shego just laughed, and Shi got a funny feeling in his stomach. He didn't like those at all. "I don't think so, Jaime. Sorry, but we duped you too." She slammed the door before he could rush at it, and it locked with a snap. "Dr. Drakken isn't really one for working with people, and well, let's just say that Mr. Gray isn't his most favorite of people. Sorry sweetie, but you kind of got caught in the middle of things. Bye." She turned and waved her fingers backwards at him, copying his own gesture at the gym.

He cursed after her in seven languages, and she just laughed and walked out of earshot. Sighing, Shi turned, and saw Possible staring at him, anger in her eyes. "Who are you?" she asked, irritated. "This was a trap for me?"

"Yep." He sunk down against the wall and straightened his legs out before him, drumming his fingers on the floor. "And don't worry, I'm not exactly a bad guy, seeing as I got trapped right along with you."

"Who are you?" she asked again. "And who's this Mr. Gray?"

"My boss, at the moment," Shi replied, looking up at her calmly. "Sit down, Possible, we're not going anywhere in a while."

"Aren't you going to try and escape?"

"Not right now." He yawned. "I'm going to follow instructions."

"Let me get this straight. Follow orders? What orders? You posed as a substitute teacher and got falsely kidnapped so that I would follow and get captured too?"

"My, aren't you smart?" he asked dryly.

"Then why are you still in here?"

"I guess Drakken and Finchy aren't that great of friends." She began tugging at the holes in the wall, trying to free them. "Um, that's not the way to do it."

Exasperated, she turned to him and snapped, "Oh, and you know how to get out? Mr. Double-Crossed?"

"Of course I know how to get out," Shi replied. "You go through the door." He watched while she tried to open it, without success.

When she was reduced to kicking at it uselessly, she snapped at him, "And how do you get through the door? When they open it?"

"No. I'll show you when the time is right. Meanwhile, I'd suggest that you get some rest." He began going through his pockets to see what he had left and what Shego and friends hadn't taken. Just some spare change, a receipt from lunch and a paperclip. At least she had missed his garrote wire. That little bit of nearly invisible thread could cut through a femur with just a little tug. That was only right, considering that it was meant to slice through space armor.

"You are a dirty, double-crossing snake," she said as she sat down, as far away from him as she could.

"Why thank you," he replied. "I'm touched. Honestly. Most people call me worse things."

"I take it you get captured a lot?" she asked.

"I try to avoid it at all costs," Shi said. "Most cells aren't as nice as this one. Some people will stick you into a cell no bigger than a coffin, with spikes and shards of glass poking out from the sides and it pitch black too. Those kinds of places really suck, but not as much when—"

"Stop it!" she said. "So what are you? Or are you still an enemy and can't reveal your little secrets?"

He laughed. "I'm not your enemy," he said. "Although I certainly wouldn't call myself your friend. If you're that curious, I'm a mercenary." At her blank look, he added, "Soldier for hire, soldier of fortune, assassin, contract killer, any of those ringing a bell?" She looked disgusted, and he nodded. "Don't worry, a lot of people don't like me either. I'm not the nicest person in the galaxy."

"And now you're trapped," she told him.

He snorted. "This little cell is fucking easy to escape."

"Then why aren't you leaving?"

"I told you before: I'm following instructions. Just sit still a moment and let me think." He turned away from her, towards the door, and eyed the situation. He couldn't see a blasted thing of Shego or Drakken, and there were only a couple of goons about, their guns still dangling from their hands. Looking up towards the ceiling he could see the clock ticking down on some countdown, and he supposed that that was the one he was supposed to be following, so he looked like he'd have fifteen minutes before he needed to escape.

While he decided what do it, he carefully began to clean up his face, using the inside of his shirt to wipe the blood off. His nose was a little tender, but not broken, thank goodness. He hated it when he broke his nose. The blood was caked, so he had to spit onto his shirt and delicately scrape it off. Possible was off doing something else, probably trying to escape, but having little success.


End file.
